


The Voyage Of The Scarlet Smallone

by Broba



Category: Homestuck, Red Dwarf
Genre: Comedy, Crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-19
Updated: 2012-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 05:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broba/pseuds/Broba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh yeah, that's right. You read those tags correctly. On the Homestuck kinkmeme someone dared to suggest a Red Dwarf crossover and me, the BIGGEST DWARFER could not resist! Oh yes! I loved doing this SO HARD.</p>
<p>A gold star to anyone who gets all the references, there are many!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Space- the infinite expanse, the ultimate reality. The endless... ness. That is space.

Through the darkness the great gnarled metal fist of a spaceship drifted, fully three kilometers long, ugly and functional. It looked like a collision in between an asteroid, a collection of high-rise cranes and the engine block to a 1986 Volkswagen. It was red- the long metal expanse of it a dull pockmarked and scratched red. Across her mighty bows was etched, in white letters each taller then a house, the words " **RED DWARF**."

On the bunk in his quarters, Dave Lister, human, was trying to enjoy one of his legendary infinite Sunday mornings, sleeping off the even more legendary Saturday night curry extravaganza, when he was shaken rudely awake by a vibration that shook the entire vessel. He swing his legs out and found his feet uncertainly, rubbing a grubby hand over his dreadlocks and gathering them with an elastic band together at the back.  
"Hol?" He asked, "what's happenin'?"  
On a large wall-screen appeared the rather bored and placid face of a balding middle-aged man. Holly, sixth-generation holographic ships' computer, IQ four thousand, somewhat senile following a voyage of three million years due to a certain accident, replied.  
"Nothing's happening, Dave."  
"Hol, I just felt the whole ship start to boogie, what happened?"  
"Nothing's happening, Dave. Everything's completely normal to be honest with you."  
"Yer tellin' me the main drives haven't just fired up?"  
"Nope. Cold as Margaret Thatcher's underwear. Nothing going on, Dave."  
"So I'm not hearin' them going off right now? That low sort of, engine-y, main drive-like rumblin' sound?"  
"Well I expect it's just a bit of dry rot."  
"Dry rot?"  
"Yeah. These old ships, they tend to "settle," you get funny noises. Dry rot."  
"That's houses, Hol."  
"Is it? I'm pretty sure I read something somewhere..."  
Dave shook his head and pulled on a pair of grubby jeans over his unmentionable long-johns, and his ancient leather jacket with "LONDON JETS" emblazoned across the back.  
"Fair enough Hol, fair enough. So, where is everyone anyway?"  
"They're all on the main drive deck."  
"I suppose they're lookin' into all the dry rot."  
"Could be."

Lister made his way up to the main drive deck, the navigational heart of the ship, where all was chaos. Skutter robots were gliding about everywhere, low rounded floor units with a single manipulator arm surmounted by a red camera eye. At the main console, he saw his official best friend and also the person he loathed most in all the human race.  
"Holly! I'm asking you one last time, why are the engines firing?" Asked (one last time) Arnold Rimmer. Hologram, image of a dead crewman who was dead as a result of the same certain accident three million years ago. He scratched fitfully at the green "H" emblazoned on his forehead while Holly repeated the same bland entreaties to the effect that the main drive couldn't possibly be firing.  
"I'm sorry sir, I'm afraid Holly seems to genuinely believe the answer he's giving you, shouting will achieve nothing," that was Kryten. Mechanoid. Angular-headed janitorial automaton, or as Rimmer preferred to call him Bog-Bot. He looked alarmed, and had been tapping away frantically at a keyboard. His entire plastic and metal body was angular and rigid, and nowhere more so then his face which was a vaguely flesh-coloured head shaped polygonal arrangement that still somehow managed to look upset all the time.  
"Hey-y-y-y," drawled Lister, "what's kickin' guys? What's the word?"  
"The word, Listy," sneered Rimmer, "is "we're smegging smegged, matey!" The engines are firing, we've veered off course into an unknown system, and our senile supercomputer doesn't seem to have any idea what's going on!"  
"How's that even possible," mused Lister, seating himself and fumbling in his pocket for one of last night’s sausages, which he chewed thoughtfully, "the ship can't just change course without Holly doing it."  
"Well done, Listy! Keep that up and you'll be passing the astronavigation exam any millennium now!"  
"I'll just be sure not to write "I am a fish" five hundred times, at least then I'll do better then you."  
"Please sirs!" Kryten looked even more anxious then usual, "this could well be an emergency situation, we're heading into an area of space that is dense with meteors."  
"Well then," Listen swallowed the last of the sausage, "let's find out who's at the wheel."

And, several hours ago (but not too many)...

garrulousGourmet [GG] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA]  
GG: It is nearly time, and I shall be there soon.  
TA: ii 2tiill can't beliieve my luck ju2t fiingiing you liike thii2.  
GG: We have found each other, soon we will be together and we will both get what we want.  
TA: And you're 2ure your 2hip can take u2 all?  
GG: Of course. The Red Dwarf is more then ample for your needs.  
TA: ii don't know how we can ever thank you!  
GG: Thanks are unnecessary. As fellow void-voyagers, it is our duty to render assistance where it is needed. And, do not think I am getting nothing out of this. I will say that my current companions have grown somewhat...  
GG: tiresome, to me. I will be glad to make the acquaintance of you, and all of your friends. There will be new views to discuss, new opinions to consider, new questions to ask. How stimulating!  
TA: Ye2... you do alway2 2eem to a2k the 2ame que2tiion, though.  
TA: Over and over.  
GG: There shall be new ways to ask it.

Sollux closed the husktop gently and went to find the others. It was too good to be true, yet he had checked the data time and time again. The vessel that he had detected at the ranges of their perceptual equipment's power had indeed changed course toward their meteor. His new friend would be right on time, and then they could at last leave their dismal prison.

When Sollux announced his findings to the others, they were less then enthusiastic.  
"What the fuck, Sollux? Exactly how fucking stupid are you? I seriously want to know, I want to know that exact amount of stupidity for fucking science!"  
In fact, they were somewhat negative about the whole idea.  
"Lithen KK, I know I should have told you guyth thooner but I wanted to be really thure before I thaid anything to you,"  
"Well I think it's exciting!" Nepeta beamed, "a spaceship!"  
"An unknown space vessel containing uw-we-don't-know-how-many alien uw-warriors!" Eridan retorted.  
"I agree with the seadweller, much as it brings me great chagrin to admit it," grumped Equius, "the vessel you describe is clearly the product of a highly advanced civilisation, and we are heavily outnumbered. They will be able to ex-tinquish us at will"  
"Well it's too late to do anything about it now," Karkat ground his teeth irritably, "when they get here, let's at least try to look like we're not a bunch of disorganised nooksniffing rumpbulges, can we at least fucking try that?"

And, over the course of the intervening hours...

Lister crawled through an access shaft and emerged onto a poorly lit maintenance corridor, one of a million identical ones that honeycombed the ship.  
"Nothin' in that one, let's move on."  
"You got it, buddy!" Said The Cat, the last descendant of a feline race that evolved over the course of the three million year voyage that resulted from the aforesaid accident. He grinned a mouth full of teeth and fangs, and span on his heel to lead the way down the corridor. He was wearing a somewhat subdued number in alternating maroon and gold velour stripe, with flared shoulders and a tight hip-line accentuated by a blue cummerbund. For The Cat, this was highly subdued indeed.  
"Kryten said it had to be one of these shafts, right? The main sensor cables all run through this section."  
"I gotta tell you bud, I was listening to what everyone was saying, but then I suddenly realised something."  
"What?"  
"I realised I'm lookin' nice."  
"That's it?"  
"Yee-e-e-eah! But I mean, real nice! In a whole originally new way, just today!"  
"Must have been shockin'."  
"I know! I keep surprising myself!"  
They had been hunting through shafts like these for hours, or at least Lister had been while The Cat watched and offered the occasional commentary on how great he was looking. Kryten had isolated the points in the ship at which the signals from the navigation gear to Holly might be intercepted. From what Kryten could tell, there had to be something attached to some vital cable feeding Holly incorrect information.  
"This is hopeless," sighed Lister, "we're never goin' to find anything." And that was when they found something.

Lister and The Cat met the others back in the main drive deck. Lister looked furious, and The Cat just swivelled into a corner and made himself obnoxiously comfortable on an impossibly angled edge of table.  
"We found it," growled Lister.  
"Found what!" Rimmer looked up.  
"We found what's been smeggin' our course up. What's been messing up Hol."  
"What is it?"  
"The low-life scummy result of a stupid decision I've been regrettin' for years. I should have never gone to that novelty souvenirs shop when I was smashed."  
"Listy, I know it's hard to get this through your miniscule curry-soaked remaining brain cell but some of us are quite interested in knowing what you found!"

Lister pulled a battered box-shaped item from his satchel and slammed it down on the table aggresively. It bleeped and one face lit up with a crude digital display.  
"It's the toaster."  
 _"Howdy doodly-doo!"_  



	2. Chapter 2

Talkie Toaster. Sentient mechanoid toaster. The result of a drunken shopping binge in a horrible spaceport souvenir shop by one David Lister. The idea was a harmless one- what could be better then a cheerful robotic toaster to prepare one's morning repast, possibly offering up a few nuggets of gossip or remarking on the weather? Unfortunately, the personality of the Talkie Toaster model contained a single fatal flaw.  
  
He really liked toast.  
  
No, that was too much of an understatement. The toaster existed for the very purpose of toast. He was dedicated, deep in his silicon soul, to the very concept of lightly grilled bread products. I toast, therefore I am. The toaster lived to toast, he _needed_ to toast.  
  
"Say," asked the toaster chirpily, "would you like some toast?"  
"No!" Shouted Lister back.  
"Listen, you plastic simpleton," Rimmer cut in, "tell us why you hijacked Holly, or else things are going to be pret-ty tricky for you in the near future!"  
The panel on the side of the toaster lit as it began to speak, but Lister cut in.  
"And no toast! We don't want to eat toast, talk about toast, think about having some toast later, or hear anythin' about smegging toast! Just answer the question!"  
"Well when you put it that way," said the toaster sulkily, "I don't think I can answer you at all."  
"Why not?" snapped Rimmer sharply.  
"Because the reason behind the ship's change in course, the reason we're heading for a specific meteor out of millions in this star system, the reason everything has been set in motion...." the toaster paused, dramatically, for effect.  
"Yes?"  
"It's... got to do with toast."  
"I'm gonner lose it!" Lister stood up and began pacing, "someone get me somethin' heavy and blunt!"  
The Cat picked up the toaster helpfully and offered it, "here you go, buddy!"  
"Not the smegging toaster! I want something to hit the toaster with!"  
"Here!"  
 _"Not the smegging toaster!"_  
  
The Jupiter Mining Corporation vessel Red Dwarf drifted closer to a particular meteor, and the ships' sensing arrays and multiple camera eyes and telescopes picked out an almost moon-sized mass with obvious signs of technology all over it. Metal powering arrangements sprouted from the meteor surface, and there was an obvious space dock.  
"Well, there it is," said the toaster. They had been sat around one of the displays on the bridge for an hour, watching as the tiny world drew closer.  
"Aliens!" Announced Rimmer, "it's got to be aliens this time!"  
"I believe Mr Rimmer sir may be correct," added Kryten, "the construction does appear to be non-human in nature."  
"Sure Kryters," muttered Lister sarcastically, "and I bet they're all pleased to see us until we go down there and it turns out to be a nest of GELFs or rogue simulants or some smegging thing."  
"Mr Lister sir, that comment shows a remarkable degree of cynicism! We may well be making contact for the first time in recorded history with a genuinely alien civilisation!"  
"No, just a minute Kryten, Listy might be a grotesque scumball but he's onto something there. This is clearly a highly advanced outpost and could be heavily armed. As the highest ranking officer present-" there were groans "-I, ahem! I am invoking space corps directive nine seven nine alpha, section two!"  
"Nine seven nine alpha section two?" Kryten mused, "No space corps officer when meeting a dignitary of diplomat level or above will remove their uniform to display political slogans written on any body part? While that may be appropriate in a general sense, Mr Rimmer sir, I feel that-"  
"No Kryten! The one about how in dangerous situations expendable mechanoids get sent in first! Now fire up Starbug and get out there!"  
Kryten was already meekly headed for the exit when Lister stopped him, "No one's goin' anywhere. Let's find out who we're dealing with first, then if it looks like a bunch of smeg we'll just back away politely and smeg off."  
"Fine Listy, and how exactly do we find out anything about them?"  
"Well!" The toaster piped up from the table, "you could always ask someone who has been in contact with them over trollian for the last week."  
They all stopped dead and turned to look at the toaster.  
"You've been talking to them?" Rimmer was incredulous.  
"That's right! I had nothing to do in that storage closet you jammed me into- so rude- and so I had one of the skutters hook me up to the main communication antenna so I could see if anyone out there wanted- uh, wanted anything. I managed to hook into a communication stream that turned out to be alien!"  
"You've been talking to them?"  
"Yes that's right, not bad huh? Maybe we should celebrate with some kind of, I don't know, warmed-over bread product..."  
"You?"  
"What's so hard to understand? Yes, the brave appliance working against all the odds managed to come through!"  
"Are you trying to tell me," said Rimmer slowly, "that after countless millennia mankind has finally managed to make contact with an advanced alien culture,"  
"Yes,"  
"And not only that but managed to engage in some kind of meaningful dialogue,"  
"Yup,"  
"Which has led to a proposal of physical contact,"  
"They'd love to meet us,"  
"And the representative of humankind in all of this, the person who had to convince the aliens of the validity of our race, the single product of thousands of years of culture and art which was presented to the aliens to judge us by, was a _smegging toaster?"_  
"Well when you put it that way, you make it sound like you're somehow unhappy about it."  
"I don't even know how to begin,"  
"Well, it's important to start any endeavour with a nice hot slice of-"  
Lister was already pulling a fire extinguisher away from the wall.  
"Wait! There's more! These aliens have teleportation technology!"  
There was a pause which hung in the air, pregnantly.  
"Go on," said Lister cautiously.  
"With their technology we could be back to Earth in a matter of days!"  
"Oh so I suppose they'll just give us whatever we want?"  
"That's the best part- they're stuck on that meteor with no transport! With their technology and our ship, we both have something to offer. So I decided that the best thing was to push you guys together to work something out."  
"I hate to say it," Lister lowered the fire extinguisher, "but I think the toaster might have a point."  
"Listy! Are you agreeing with the novelty appliance now? Well there's a surprise, you're mental equals after all."  
"Alright Rimmer, let's take a vote on it," Lister smirked and held up a hand, "I vote we meet up with these aliens and see what we can nick. Cat?"  
Behind them, The Cat jerked awake from one of his primary midafternoon snoozes and yawned discreetly. "Yeeeeaah, what's happening?"  
"We're taking a vote."  
"Whatever goal-post head said, I vote against that."  
"Kryters?"  
"As you are perfectly aware sir, my programming requires me to side with a human in any decision making process."  
"Check it out, boys from the dwarf! Hit the communicator, let's say 'ello!"  
"I'll create a communications annexe," said the toaster, "let me explain to you how trollian works-"  
  
CURRENT garrulousGourmet [CGG] RIGHT NOW opened a memo on board TOAST BASED DIPLOMACY.  
[CGG] Very well, this is the memo within which we shall all interlocute.  
CURRENT oldironBalls [COB] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.  
[COB] wHy are you talking like tHat you sound smegging ridiculous.  
[COB] look smegging ridiculous.  
[COB wHatever.  
[CGG] Written communications are routed through a specialised sub-processor on my mainboard. When my model was constructed by Crapola Industries they had a warehouse filled with unused Ettiquator 19 spell-checking modules for high end secretarial devices left over which were re-purposed for this function.  
CURRENTjimBexley [CJB] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.  
[CJB] soi i typoe into th ethig here ljike thsi???  
[COB] oH god you're typing witH one finger lister How are you managing to make sucH a bad job of it?  
[CJB] itts hard im not good withh thes theings  
[COB] really? I never would Have guessed.  
[CJB] why aare hyou makjing allyour haiiches big  
[COB] tHe skutter wHo is typing for me appears to tHink that it Has a sense of Humour.  
[COB] also i am an an enormous smeg Head wHo is full of smeg  
[COB] tHat wasn't me! type wHat i tell you to or it's the scrap Heap for you!  
[COB] all right i will beHave.  
[COB] good now only type wHat i say.  
[COB] not tHat you idiot just type wHen i tell you i want to talk to tHe smeggers.  
[CJB] hahahaahahaah your a goni to mjae a good frits ompression that waj  
CURRENT definitiveFeline [CDF] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.  
[CDF] Yeeeeeeah!  
[CJB] hi ccat  
[CDF] Hey look at all my letters! o,,o  
[CDF] They're looking nice. n,,n  
[CJB] whast tha t?  
[CDF] Check it out buddy, happy face with fangs! n,,n  
[COB] would you two please eitHer try to concentrate or let tHe adults handle tHis.  
[CDF] u,,u  
CURRENT angularMechanoid [CAM] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.  
[CAM] **COMMENCE RAPID TYPE MODE (copyright typematic fingersystems all rights reserved)** Good afternoon sirs, I see we have managed to successfully interface with Trollian.  
[CJB] yueah skryters!  
[CAM] **COMMENCE RAPID TYPE MODE (copyright typematic fingersystems all rights reserved)** An excellent effort sir, well done.  
[COB] kryten you idiot do you Have to type that blurb before everytHing?  
[CAM] **COMMENCE RAPID TYPE MODE (copyright typematic fingersystems all rights reserved)** I'm sorry sir, but it is a legal requirement set down in my programming for Rapid Type Mode.  
[COB] don't you Have a different mode you could use?  
[CAM] _COMMENCE SLOW TYPE MODE (Slowtype Excellence, by Communique Systems Intregration Limited. Enjoy your fingers, enjoy each other! Ask us about our erotic fiction library- fully discreet and satisfaction guaranteed. All rights reserved.)_ Yes, sir.  
[COB actually stick to tHe first one.  
[CAM] **COMMENCE RAPID TYPE MODE (copyright typematic fingersystems all rights reserved)** Yes, sir.  
[CDF] So what happens now? ?,,?  
[CGG] Well, now that you have taken up the reins, so to speak, I would say that all is in readiness.  
[COB] i still can't believe we're letting the smegging toaster cHoose How we go about tHis  
[CGG] You know, when you're feeling upset there's a handy convenient snack that will perk you right up.  
[CJB] i'm gettign the fijre ekstingishher  
[CAM] **COMMENCE RAPID TYPE MODE (copyright typematic fingersystems all rights reserved)** Please sirs! We must try to attend to the matter at hand.  
CURRENT twinArmageddons [CTA] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.  
[CTA] are you people 2eriiou2??


	3. Chapter 3

Red Dwarf hung over the meteor like a fat red blister in space, silent, oppressively huge. Negotiations had been fraught at first, but the two sides had reached something like an accommodation. The trolls had become satisfied rapidly that the humans were incapable of doing them much harm, and the humans realised quickly that they were dealing with, fundamentally, a squabbling bunch of children. As the rotund shuttle Starbug rocketed towards the meteor spirits were high.  
  
"Now remember," said Rimmer, "these... people... have a culture based on violence, savagery and respect. So when we get there I think it would be best if we put on a united front and show them what we're really made of."  
"O-kay Rimmer," smirked Lister, "we'll march right in there and demand to be taken to the nearest chicken soup machine, so they know they're dealing with he smartest vending repair technicians they ever met, how's that?"  
"Ri-i-i-ight, new plan. As soon as we get there, do your best to look like," Rimmer groped for words and failed, "basically exactly what we're not."  
"Souper."  
  
Starbug roared into the meteor space port, dwarfed easily by the bulk of troll technological items of unfathomable purpose. A party of the grey-skinned aliens waited patiently for the landing gantry to descend, and there it was- first contact. Rimmer stepped out of the thorax unit of Starbug and strode up to the semicircle of waiting trolls, followed by the others. He immediately raised one arm aloft and performed the most elaborate of his self-designed diplomatic salutes, with fully five wrist-swirls.  
"Arnold Rimmer, commanding the Jupiter Mining Corporation vessel Red Dwarf, and let me tell you," he paused to run an eye along the waiting line of trolls, staring at them all momentarily exactly as the books on military tactics and inspirational leadership he had read whilst running Z-Shift, officially the worst performing vending repair technical team aboard Red Dwarf before the accident, had always said would give him an air of gravitas, "I'm not the sort of person who takes any nonsense. So let's get that clear right away, if you think-"  
Karkat raised a sickle and put on his best smile, a letterbox-shaped grimace filled with snarling teeth, "Fu-u-u-uck," he took a deep breath, "you-u-u-u-u-u."  
Gamzee patted him on the shoulder in congratulations for showing such restraint as he had promised them that he would try to. By Karkat's standards, it was practically poetry and flowers.  
  
Rimmer swallowed and took one look at the baleful Karkat waving a sickle at his entire testicular area, and took a step back, leaning over to mutter at Lister.  
"Abort abort it's all gone wrong get back in the smegging ship!"  
Lister just rolled his eyes and stepped forwards, "I'll deal with this." He smiled lopsidedly and adjusted his crumpled hat.  
"Eh," he said, "take us... to your leader?"  
"Taykhus tooyorr leed-eh?"  
"Yeah, the big cheese? The big boss? The guv'ner?"  
Karkat looked at him blankly and shook his head slightly in perplexity. Lister stepped back to address the others.  
"It's not workin, I thought they understood English for some reason?"  
"Yes Listy," said Rimmer with a derisive flare of his nostrils, "but they obviously don't speak scouse."  
Lister's Liverpudlian accent being too much for the trolls to handle, The Cat patted Lister on the shoulder and nodded gravely, "Relax buddy, let me put on the old feline charm," He grinned and gave them a double thumbs-up, and before they could stop him he sauntered up to the waiting trolls, his snakeskin square-toed cowboy boots clicking smartly on the panelled floor. He came to a halt and span for effect, showing off the full extend of his all-silver outfit with the peach lined vents and double piping.  
"Hey-y-y-y-y-y!"  
They stared at him patiently, waiting.  
The Cat coughed discreetly and stepped back to the others, "Sorry guys, that's all I got!"  
"A sterling effort if I may say so Mr Cat sir," said Kryten smoothly, "but maybe if I were to attempt to open communications. As a mechanoid I have no particular cultural attachments and may be able to appeal to their higher sense of logic and understanding."  
"Go for it Kryters," Lister shrugged, "you're all we've got left."  
  
Kryten waddled up to Karkat and held out a finger admonishingly.  
"Now, see here, sir. We wish to negotiate an exchange of technology as discussed, and I feet it would be in everyone's best interests if we all-"  
"Negotiate!" Karkat screeched, "what the fuck? We were expecting conquering fucking warlords in a battle transportation device, who the fuck are you people?" He gritted his teeth and snarled, "this has to be only the latest in a series of sick jokes the universe has been pulling on me and let me be the first to say HA FUCKING HA, look at the mirthful mother fucker over here cackling away at the sheer whimsical inanity of it all!"  
Lister chirped up "Ah-ey, that's not fair,"  
"And what the FUCK kind of meaningless NOISE was that?"  
"Please sir! Allow me!" Kryten made soothing gestures at Lister, "we're here in good faith young man, and we expect-"  
"Fuck you!"  
"-and we expect to be treated-"  
"And fuck your stupid green chirpbeast looking transit pod!"  
"-treated with the appropriate-"  
"And fuck your green hologrammatic douche and fuck your nonsense-jester and fuck your stylish but idiotic pet and fuck your stupid polygonal head!"  
"Hey!" The Cat grinned, "the little dude recognises style at least!"  
"-respect." Concluded Kryten. "Oh, dear."  
"Kryten!" Hissed Rimmer, "violence based culture, remember? Show a little backbone! Tell him who's boss!"  
"I- I'll try Mr Rimmer sir," Kryten waggled a finger at Karkat and Karkat sliced it neatly off with a sickle, the finger sparked and fizzed for a moment. The other trolls were starting to mill around uncertainly, unsure of the situation.  
"Get the fuck off my meteor!" Yelled Karkat.  
"Now see here!"  
"Off!"  
"You can't just-"  
"Fuck off! Off with you go fuck! The fuck, is a destination to which you shall go! Here you shall not remain, and to fuck you shall ascend!"  
"Please! You're being-"  
"I'll have another finger off you see if I don’t!"  
"You're-"  
"What? What are you going to say to the superior and unstoppable trolling you just received?"  
"You're a-"  
"Yes?"  
"You're-" Kryten was vibrating a little, and looked ready to cry if that were possible for a mechanoid.  
"I can't hear you, horrifying facial growth removal ceremony accident head!"  
"You're a complete-"  
"WHAT?"  
"You're a smeeeeeeeeeee."  
Karkat's mouth hung open in complete nonplussed bewilderment.  
"You're a _smeeeeeeeeeee."_ Kryten repeated.  
"I'm, what?"  
"You're a smeeeeeee _heeeeeeee!"_  
"I'm... a smee heee?"  
"Yes sir if I may be so bold, a complete and a total one!"  
"I..." Karkat gulped, and looked around at the others who shrugged.  
"He means," said Lister slowly, "that you're a smeg head."  
  
After that, the other trolls were forced to admit that Karkat had been handed a most severe trolling, and the Red Dwarf crew were welcomed onto the meteor. Equius and Sollux were handed the schematics of Red Dwarf's drive system to pore over. They announced in time that the vessel was more then sufficient for their purposes. In effect, they would turn the entire ship into a transportalizer, capable of taking them wherever they wanted to go. The agreement was that the humans would be taken back to Earth, after which the trolls would be free to take the ship where they wished. Of course, this would require a lot of work and transporting of items between the station and the ship, so the humans found themselves guests of the trolls on their meteor base.  
  
The Cat was naturally given to curiosity and went off on long exploratory journeys deep into the meteor immediately, which is where he ran into Nepeta. He was strutting down an accessway, casually spraying the floors walls and various sundry items with a small atomiser he kept on his purpose.  
"This is mine," he announced happily with a hiss of spray, "this is mine, this is mine, this... yeah, this is mine," Suddenly his pointed ears pricked up and he froze, he heard something. The slightest shuffle of rubber soled shoe on metal. The Cat crept along a little more stealthily, pausing only to spray things he really wanted as his suspicions grew ever greater that he was not alone.  
  
Suddenly a black and green shape torpedoed over one immaculately suited shoulder, span against a stanchion and came to rest in front of him, unfolding to reveal the troll Nepeta who was grinning and spread her claw-gloves wide.  
"Uh-oh! Better make myself look big!" The Cat lifted up on tiptoes and hissed.  
Nepeta squealed and covered her eyes, "Eee! The purrowling purrbeast encounters a meowgnificent monster!"  
"Yeah! That's right! Hiss hiss!" The Cat replied, actually saying the word 'hiss.'  
Nepeta circled around him and he swivelled smoothly on one heel, "Sniff sniff! The purrbeast clawtiously demands to know who da-a-a-ares intrude on her territory?"  
"Who me? I'm The Cat!" The Cat grinned widely and Nepeta beamed.  
"Now the purrbeast pawhaps thinks the intruder is looking very nice!"  
"I know, I was just thinking the same thing myself! You're pretty smart!"  
"And you're a purrticularly good dresser!"  
"With your brains, and my amazing good looks, we could do anything!"  
Nepeta nuzzled against his thigh and purred happily, "What did you have in mind?"  
"Well," said The Cat thoughtfully, "first I was going to claim all these fine things around here that are now mine, then I was going to have my main afternoon snooze, and then I thought I'd sneak up on that fish dude and bite him!"  
"Meow! Count me in!"  
  
Equius was in the process of dismantling one of the enormous tubular disruption arrays which formed the basis of their proposed transportalizer propulsion system when Sollux wandered over to him and coughed meaningfully.  
"What is it, Captor," Equius grunted, "I am ex-ceedingly busy at the moment as you can no doubt tell."  
"That'th fine, I wath jutht thinking of thomething."  
"So?"  
"You remember when we firtht got to the meteor?"  
"Of course I remember."  
"One of the firtht thingth we did wath thet up a dithruption shell around the meteor, right?"  
Equius paused, as the implication set in.  
"I remember..."  
Indeed he did remember. When the trolls had realised that they might have to remain on the meteor for an extended period of time, the first thing they had to worry about was remaining undetected to the Alternian imperial sensor network, otherwise they would be marked for the regular visitation of the dreaded imperial drones. The disruption shell they had set up effectively looped all incoming Alternian sensor signals into the transportalizer network, making them invisible.  
"And, do you remember which of the thranthportalither network nodeth we ran the dithruption shell through?"  
Equius thought about it, hard. He was pretty sure- no- certain in fact that it had been number three network down the hallway that had been used.  
"It's fine," said Equius breathing a sigh of relief, "I'm certain we used the number three network for it."  
"Oh! That ith a relief. I know it'th thilly, but I thuddenly had thith dreadful thoguht and I jutht wanted to be thure."  
"Of course, of course, I would feel the same way."  
From along the hallway, Rimmer clicked smartly into view. "Greetings gentlemen!"  
The trolls grunted. They had already had a much out of Rimmer as they could cheerfully stomach, deal or no deal.  
"Working away, I see!" Rimmer smirked insincerely, "well done, well done, but I just thought I'd tell you not to bother."  
"And why," said Equius slowly, "is that?"  
"I noted you down here taking this- thing- down and I thought I'd lend a bit of a hand, give you the benefit of my expertise and organizational skills. So I got hold of some of the skutters and-"  
He bowed and raised an arm with a flourish, as around a corner a team of skutters laboured into view, carrying aloft between them the carefully and indeed quite skilfully dismantled number three unit. Sollux took off his glasses, rubbed them on his shirt, and put them back on again.  
"Oh _thmeg!"_  
Rimmer gave them one of his smarmiest grins and marched onwards. "Capital!"


	4. Chapter 4

Meanwhile, alone aboard Starbug, the toaster was starting to feel like they had left it behind on purpose. Surely not. Surely, any kind of interaction with an entirely alien species previously unknown to humanity would require the most delicate and sensitive diplomacy. And, as the toaster well knew, one could not be diplomatic without a nourishing and warming bread-based meal to start the day. It was his duty to do something about it. The toaster signalled to the lone skutter left behind in Starbug, which glided over.  
"Hey, you! I have a job for you. You'll need a screwdriver and a soldering iron."  
  
In the recreation block, Karkat was trying to relax and to calm down. This was complicated by the fact that the disgusting filthy human sat next to him was insisting itching and scratching parts of it's anatomy that, Karkat assumed, were by now either fully and comprehensively itched, or else permanently immune by now to further scratching. They were watching a screen, on which one of Karkat's favourite troll romance sagas was playing out. As there was nothing better to do while the more engineering-minded trolls were setting up their plan, this had been the state of affairs for some time.  
  
The saga took place in a pre-civilised society, that was idealised humorously for satirical effect in order to throw a meaningful light on current affairs, as Karkat had explained. This was why all the trolls in it were living in caves and wearing lusus-skin garments. The plot revolved around a main character who was a comic buffoon and his neighbouring moirail. They would enter into convoluted and intricate adventuresome schemes, all the while trying to avoid getting into trouble with their respective matesprits. Karkat and Lister had been watching for some time.  
  
Once again, the buffoonish protagonist had roped his moirail into some zany, madcap scheme which had them off on an adventure, and as Karkat and Lister watched the long-suffering matesprits discussed the various turns of events leading to this pass.  
"So go on," said Lister slowly, trying to mask his accent well enough for Karkat to understand, "would yeh?"  
"This is fucking ridiculous."  
"Arr, ey, It's a simple question man, don't tell me you haven't even thought about it."  
"Well of course every troll has thought about it sooner or later."  
"So? Would yeh?"  
Karkat sighed and drummed his fingertips irritably on his belly. "Fine. I'd pail Troll Betty."  
Lister grunted in agreement.  
"So human? Same question."  
"Well," Lister paused and scratched himself, "I'd go with Troll Betty, but I'd be thinkin' about Troll Wilma."  
Karkat nodded sagely, "it is commonly accepted fact that does not require discussion, that Troll Wilma is the absolute peak of feminine pailability."  
They watched for a moment longer, before Lister chuckled, "look at us, this is ridiculous."  
"Yeah. Pathetic."  
"Troll Wilma would never leave Troll Fred and we both know it."  
  
In the main network room of the lab, Eridan was taking his turn watching over the various computers tasked with running the day-to-day operations of the place. The system was almost entirely automated, but still required some degree of oversight and so they took turns. He stared boredly at a screen producing an incomprehensible stream of figures that he had no way of understanding and no intention of acting upon. He had only agreed to this demeaning duty in order to show Fef he could be responsible anyway, he reasoned, so it wasn't like he was serious about it.  
  
The room was high-ceilinged, and above the lighting the ceiling was an invisible dark void criss-crossed with cabling and gantries. Far above him, there was a tiny shuffle in the darkness. A noise that made him look around sharply.  
"Who's there?" he demanded, "this isn't fuckin' funny!"  
On the very verge of his hearing, he thought he could detected a hushed giggle.  
"Oh very fuckin' mature," he called out, "uw-well you ought t' know I'm not fooled! This is just uw-weak! Is that you Sol?"  
There was a tiny metallic clink, he was certain now that someone was moving about yet the room was empty.  
"S-Sol?" he whined, "this is fuckin' ridiculous you know, I'm not playin' your mind games! Uh, unless this is you gettin' all black on me, cause you know I think uw-we could really-"  
From above him in the darkness came a titter again, and this time he heard it clearly- a voice.  
"We're gonna eat you little fishie!"  
Eridan paled, "that's not Sol,"  
"We're gonna eat you little fish!" That was another one, there were two of them now?  
"We're gonna eat you little fishie...."  
"'Cause we like eating fish!"  
And at that point both Nepeta and the Cat fell on him from above to give Eridan the most thorough pouncing of his life.  
  
It was thanks to this pouncing that Eridan was prevented from noticing, had he been inclined to anyway, that the meteor was being approached by an unknown radar contact. The automated docking procedures went into action, welcoming the visitor aboard without comment.  
  
The first anyone realised what was happening was when the public address system kicked into life with a crackle and announced in the calm voice of the meteor computer that all troll present would immediately present themselves to the Imperial Drone waiting in the docking hall. Everything immediately stopped. The trolls all ran to the network room, where a very sheepish looking Eridan was disentangling himself from the pile of feline assault he was occupied with when he should have been watching out for, basically, situations exactly like the one he had just failed to watch out for.  
  
Karkat was the first to say it, "The fuck, man? The fuck?"  
"It uw-wasn't my fault! These idiots pounced me!"  
"Seriously? That's your excuse? Fuck me raw and ignore my needs! Oh well, the last remaining trolls on the planet were all culled in an orgy of blood and horror because, and I quote, Eridan got pounced. Well inscribe that upon my epitaph tablet, that there is a fucking good set of last words you bulgeknuckle!"  
Gamzee placed a hand on his shoulder, "easy best friend, you'll give yourself a rupture an' shit."  
"Of course! Take it easy! Why not? After all, we just have to produce enough genetic material to please a drone in the next few moments or we're all culled, so what's the problem? Is it that I despise everyone here so much that my bulge has actually retracted into my body? Because from my point of view that's entirely the fucking problem!"  
"I don't even know, man, that's all up and a lot of complex logic for a motherfucker to handle, are you sayin' it's bad news?"  
"Yes, Gamzee, it is bad fucking news. It's the worst news. In the entire written history of the universe, next to every appalling event, every act of barbarity and evil, there's a teeny-tiny fucking asterisk leading to a footnote pointing out that as bad as it may be, the event in question was not quite as horrifying as this going on right now here! Does that make it any fucking clearer?"  
"Naw man, I don't deal in bleak metaphors."  
Karkat just stared. As Gamzee watched, one of Karkat's pupils contracted noticeably, and the eyelid began to slowly close. Gamzee helped him to a seat before a full rage stroke took effect.  
Sollux sighed and raised a hand. "Ath much ath I hate to thay thith, it'th not actually Eridan'th fault. thomeone-" he glared at Rimmer, "dethided to help out by dithmantling the piethe of equipment that wath hiding uth from the droneth."  
"Ah," said Rimmer.  
"And that'th how it found uth."  
"I see," said Rimmer.  
"Tho. Bathically. We're fucked."  
"What's an Imperial Drone?" Asked Lister. "Sounds like a cough sweet for opera singers."  
Kanaya smiled, "try to imagine a massive armoured killing machine that demands you produce genetic material with which to birth the next troll generation, on pain of immediate and painful culling."  
"Well, can't you just..." Lister made a vague motion in midair, "I mean, they might give you some magazines or somethin', you know, to help."  
"It's rather more serious then that. The pailing must be immediate and vigorous, and please the drone with both quantity and consistency."  
The humans thought about that for a moment. Rimmer winced.  
"So, troll sex involves threats and physical violence?"  
"Of course."  
"Sounds like my parents, without all the criticism."  
From across the room, Karkat moaned deliriously, "we're so fucked! It's all over. That's it."  
"Come on guys," Lister grinned, "we can think of somethin', let's have a look at the smegger and see what we're up against."  
  
Eridan activated a control and they all gathered around the main screen. There it was, stood patiently in the middle of the docking hall. Black and huge and beetling with armour and spikes. The thing was just waiting patiently, although something about the way suggested in no uncertain terms that patience was a limited quality it possessed.  
"Not good," whispered Equius. Beside him, Nepeta wound an arm around his and shivered.  
The Cat rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Okay guys, I think I got this one. So, we load up the nuclear laser-pulpers, show that big dude the business end, and all we got to worry about it cleaning up the little bitty bits left over afterwards!"  
"A cunning and apropos plan, mister Cat sir," said Kryten smoothly, "with, if I may, only two drawbacks. First, the equipment we brought with us is still aboard Starbug, which I notice the drone is standing in front of. And secondly, there's no such thing as a nuclear laser-pulper."  
"Those are both really good points buddy," the Cat conceded, "I think we should go with someone else's plan."  
From the couch came a moan, "does anyone have a fucking plan?"  
"Hang on," said Lister, "I think I got one."  
"It's signalling," said Equius softly, "it wants to know what's causing a delay."  
"Stall it with static. Kryten, Cat, follow me!"  
  
The imperial trident appeared on the communication screen, and the voice of the drone itself boomed through the speakers petulantly.  
"WHY IS THERE HESITATION? FACE THE DRONE."  
They all looked around at each other wildly, too afraid to say anything. Perhaps because of his intimate familiarity with bowel-watering fear Rimmer was the first to lean over the microphone and say something.  
"Ah! Ah, well, just a minor... minor technical... problem!"  
"ALL SHALL FACE THE DRONE. IDENTIFY!"  
"Now see here, me laddy-o! Perhaps you think you can just push people around wherever you're from, but let me tell you," Rimmer swallowed nervously, "well let me tell you this! We have something to tell you! And I don't really care if you like it or not!"  
"DELIVER YOUR MESSAGE, FLESH NUB, BEFORE EVISCERATION COMMENCES."  
"We surrender, totally and utterly without reservation, please don't kill us and thank you for your time, thank you, thank you, sorry, thanks, sorry," he was actually cringing a little at the mike. The trolls all shared looks of combined horror and faint disgust.  
"I AM GOING TO CUT OFF YOUR FACE AND MOUNT IT UPON MY PRIMARY DISEMBOWELLING BLADE SO THAT THE LAST THING YOU SEE IS YOUR OWN EXPRESSION OF HORROR AND DISMAY, AND THEN-"  
Suddenly Lister shouted from behind them, "Right ready! Kryten, cut in the camera feed!"  
  
In the docking hall where the drone stood, a large viewscreen mounted on one wall flickered into life, revealing a bulbous mound of flesh, vaguely cone shaped, with a single baleful eye mounted afront the apex. It had a mouth set halfway down, which looked huge against it's weirdly shaped body.  
"My name," announced the creature, "is Tarka Dhal, of the great Vindaloori Empire!"  
  
In the network room, the trolls looked on in bemusement as Lister and Cat were filmed by Kryten, they were laying down on a table such that only the tops of their chins were caught on the screen, with the final touch being one of Kryten's robotic eyes each.  
"What are they doing," whispered Kanaya.  
"Something smegging ridiculous," hissed Rimmer, "this never works!"  
  
The drone raised it's twin disembowelling limbs in rage and roared up at the view screen, "ALL TROLLS WILL PRESENT THEMSELVES, IMMEDIATELY!"  
"Trolls? The Vindaloori empire despises all trolls! Isn't that right, Bindi-Bhaji?"  
The camera swivelled to the side, revealing another of the Cyclopean creatures- the Cat's fangs, upside down, now looked like fearsome tusks.  
"Yeah buddy! Ain't no trolls around here! We hate those guys!"  
"TROLL READINGS HAVE BEEN DETECTED IN THIS FACILITY!"  
'Tarka Dhal' spat with rage, "the mighty Vindaloori empire says, uh, none of them around here!"  
"For real, buddy! He's not kidding!"  
  
Rimmer groaned softly and pressed his hands over his eyes. "Lister, you complete and total absolute smegging-"  
  
"OH. WELL. ARE YOU SURE?"  
There was a pause. If anything, the humans had to replay what they had heard slowly just to be sure.  
"We're... we're really sure."  
"Yep! Nothin' going on here!"  
"WELL IN THAT CASE, SORRY TO BOTHER YOU. CARRY ON."  
  
Rimmer peeked through his fingers. The trolls were frozen in tense shock. To all of their amazement, the drone was actually turning around. Behind it, the bulk of Starbug squatted. Suddenly, the squat green shuttle's running lights activated, and the address system kicked in with a squeal.  
"Hey guys!"  
  
"What just happened?" Hissed Lister.  
"Was that the toaster?" Rimmer craned over the monitor while Eridan turned the camera to face Starbug. Sure enough, visible through the front view plates, the toaster was perched on the control dashboard in the pilot's position, wires running from inside its' casing into Starbug's systems.  
  
"Guys? You left me all alone!"  
The drone paused, and turned to stare up at the bulbous rump of Starbug in confusion.  
"WHO SPEAKS?"  
"Why, I'm Talkie Toaster! Say, where is everyone? Did they meet up with the trolls? How did that go?"  
"TROLLS!"  
"Sure! Have you seen them? I know they're around here somewhere..."  
"TREACHERY AND DECEIT! ALL SHALL PAY! THE TIME OF CULLING APPROACHES SWIFTLY! DEPLOYING FLENSING CLEAVERS AND PRY-FORKS!"  
  
"Well, guyth," said Sollux, "I'd like to thay it'th been fun. Exthept, well you know."  
"I know uw-what you mean," said Eridan, "this whole affair has been fuckin' unconscionable."  
  
In the docking hall, the voice of the toaster boomed out chirpily from Starbug.  
"It seems you're pretty intent on killing everyone, then!"  
"YES, THAT IS ENTIRELY CORRECT. SLOWLY."  
"And I assume that you're not really going to be interested in not doing that, then."  
"THAT IS AN ENTIRELY CORRECT SUPPOSITION, AND WHEN I DETERMINE YOUR LOCATION I WILL CULL YOU AS WELL, JUST ON PRINCIPLE."  
"In that case, I have only one further question before you get on with your busy schedule."  
"YOU HAVE TIME FOR ONE QUESTION REMAINING, WHILE MY ELECTRO-SAWS ACHIEVE OPTIMAL BONE SEVERING VELOCITY."  
  
(There was a low, bass rumble that began echoing throughout the docking hall)  
  
"One question, a statement and an interrogative, a point of principle upon which to delineate the inevitably brief remaining run-time available to me, then."  
"THAT WOULD BE WISE. BREVITY WILL SERVE YOU WELL GIVEN THE VERY INTENSE AND PAINFUL CULLING YOU ARE ABOUT TO RECIEVE."  
  
(A flicker of gas escaped from a vent housing on Starbug's back, and a crackle of electricity hummed through the hull.)  
  
"One question with which to glean the final threads of knowledge and experience to complete the tapestry of my personal history."  
"YES, ONE QUESTION I WILL PERMIT. ONE QUESTION ONLY AND THERE WILL BE NO MORE QUESTIONS FOLLOWING THE AFORESAID QUESTION."  
  
(The windscreen wipers flicked into life. There was no reason for this, but for some reason that always happened during the activation cycle.)  
  
"In that case, my question is this-"  
"I LISTEN."  
"Given that the universe can be described as a quasi-infinite tensor field of varying energy states-"  
"GO ON,"  
"-and given that the minimal vacuum energy state is a nonzero quantity in any given frame of reference-"  
"YES?"  
"-and that there can only be a limited amount of available time to observe a non-trivial amount of quantum interactions-"  
"NATURALLY, DO CONTINUE,"  
"-then my question is this..."  
The drone leant forwards with something approaching eagerness on it's featureless facial carapace.  
"Would you like some toast?"  
"WELL, ACTUALLY-"  
  
Whatever the drone would have answered was lost to posterity as Starbug's twin engines fired on full burn for three seconds, tossing the drone effortlessly against the far wall and reducing it instantly to an ugly carbon stain.  
  
There was silence throughout the meteor. They all contemplated what they had just seen. An imperial drone, grim enforcer of the Alternian hierarchy had been exterminated by a Talkie Toaster, from Crapola, Inc.  
"Guys," said Lister quietly, "I think we'd better have some toast."  
  
Later, but not too much later, the mining vessel Red Dwarf swam languidly away from the meteor lab. The vessel was so fantastically, ludicrously enormous that it dwarfed, so to speak, the laboratory they had come from. The equipment had been installed, Equius had worked around the clock and Sollux had been cross-coding the human and troll systems madly using some form of programming alchemy unseen before or since. In the end all of their efforts boiled down to the entire group stood in the command deck around a mass of cabling that snaked away in every direction from a black cube that stood at waist-height, upon the surface of which was a pair of buttons. Underneath one of them was inscribed "ACTIVATRIX" and the other bore the legend "STOPNOGATOR."  
  
"Welp," announce Sollux, "it'th ready."  
"Is that it?" Lister was bemused.  
"It's considerably more complex then it seems," said Equius, slightly huffily, "there are complex engineering principles involved."  
"Yeah but..." Lister walked around the box, examining it from every angle, "is that it?"  
"Yeth!" Snapped Sollux, "tho are we finally ready to thtop admiring the thing and turn it on?"  
Rimmer was similarly skeptical, "How do we know it's not going to blow up the ship or something?"  
"Becauth! It won't! Would thomeone jutht do it?"  
"I would have to agree with Mister Sollux sir," said Kryten, "all possible safety measures that we could take have been taken, at this juncture the only decision remaining is whether to use the device or not."  
"Right then!" Lister planted his hat more firmly, "we'll do it then."  
  
They all stood and watched the box. The box remained stoically resolute, in a boxy way. They looked at each other nervously, and back at the box.  
"Tho, who'th going to turn it on?" Asked Sollux softly. Suddenly, they were all nervous.  
Karkat grimaced and stomped forwards. "Fuck it! I'll do it then, how hard can this shit be?"  
"It'th thimple to uthe, KK. All you do to thtart it ith-"  
"Oh fuck off, I think I can handle a little two-button deal!"  
  
Karkat sneered- and jammed a thumb on both buttons at once. Instantly there was a terrifying deafening rumble from the depths of the ship.  
"Oh shit! Why did you preth both of them!"  
"Fuck! I thought-"  
  
There was a bright flash of light....


End file.
